


Dark Eyes

by stratataisen



Category: Speed Racer (2008)
Genre: Locker Room, M/M, Steamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratataisen/pseuds/stratataisen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Speed could feel dark eyes upon him during the Grand Prix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Um...This was my first Speed Racer fic ever, so it probably wasn't that good. ^-^;;; It was originally suppose to be a short drabble with two other drabbles I was going to write with two other pairings (Taejo/Speed & Yakuza/Taejo) and yeah, it just became something a lot longer then planned. As I'm sure you noticed I did not use an actual name for the Yakuza driver in this fic, didn't find out that his name was Teppedoma until after I posted this fic on a lj community oh so long ago. And I'm too lazy to change it now. XD
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Speed Racer or the characters.

When Speed had entered the locker room before the Grand Prix he had felt the eyes of every racer there upon him.  A dark, almost malicious, intent had been held within those gazes, all of them wanting to bring him down on the track.  This had probably been because of Royalton, the ‘business’ man had been seething with anger when he had found out that Speed had a ligament invitation to race.  There was one set of eyes, however, that held not only malice in them but also something else, something that Speed had not been able to decipher at the time. 

Those dark colored eyes belonged to a white haired Asian who was the driver for the Yakuza.  Even though the driver’s back had been to Speed, those dark eyes had followed his every move in the locker room with the help of a mirror that the racer had been using to shave. 

When Speed had set his gear down to get ready for the race he had glanced over to the other driver, watching as the cut-throat razor being used slowly went up the strong jaw line, removing shaving cream and stubble.  His light blue eyes had caught the other driver’s darker ones in the reflection of the mirror and quickly looked away from the heated gaze.

That same gaze stayed with him throughout the race, from start to finish, and now they were on him again as he changed in the locker room for the after party.

“That was some amazing racing you did out there.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun out on the track.”

When the other racer spoke Speed looked up from lacing his shoes and into dark colored eyes that were sitting on a bench across from him.  The malicious intent that had been in those eyes before was gone, now they only held a look that Speed still couldn’t figure out.  He gave a quick nervous smile to the other man.  “Uh…thanks.”

The white haired racer just chuckled, a smooth engine like sound coming from his throat.  He started to remove his racing gear, starting with his jump suite.

Speed went back to changing when the other driver didn’t say anything else.  He wanted to get out of that locker room as quickly as possible, those dark eyes made him uneasy and he didn’t like the fact that he was alone in the room with the other man.  With his racing gear hastily packed into his duffel bag, he zipping it closed, ready to leave.  He only made it a few steps toward the door when he suddenly found himself slammed up against a locker, the white haired Yakuza racer towering over him, pinning him in place.  Speed shook his head; the back of it throbbing from coming into hard contact with the locker he was pinned against.  He glared up at the older man with fierce eyes.  “Why you-“

“Those eyes.”  The Yakuza racer said, cutting off the younger man.  A grin formed on his face as he lifted Speed’s chin.  “Fierce and defiant.  I like that.”

Speed’s heart felt like it was in his throat as the other man lifted his chin.  He now realized of what that foreign look in the other racer’s eyes was.  Hunger.  Not wanting to seem intimidated by this Speed kept up his farce of defiance.  He growled low in his throat.  “Let go of me.”

The words Speed uttered to him only made the white haired driver smirk.  He leaned in closer to the younger man’s face.  “No, I don’t think I’m going to.”

The younger driver could distinctly feel the other man’s breath caressing his face as he spoke.  He growled and tried to break free of the other man’s hold only to find himself back against the locker, the hold on him tighter then before.

“That was not a good idea, Racer.”  The Yakuza driver said, smirking.

Speed sneered up at the other racer.  “What do you want?”

“I thought that would have been obvious, Racer.”  As fast as lighting the white haired driver closed the gap between them and captured Speed’s lips in a fierce kiss.

Speed breathed in sharply as if gasping in shock.  He grabbed the other man’s shirt in his fist, not pull him in closer but not push him away either.

The Yakuza racer chuckled into the kiss, slipping in his tongue when he was given the opening, ravishing the mouth beneath his own.  A smirk creased his lips when he finally pulled back, licking his lips.  “I’ll end this here, with just a taste, since I know someone would come looking for you.  It would be suspicious if the Grand Prix winner didn’t show up to his own celebration.”

Speed glared, breathing hard.  “Bastard.”

The white haired racer laughed as he picked up his own duffle bag, shouldering it.  “I’ll be seeing you again, Speed Racer, you can count on that.”  

Speed watched as the other man left the locker room, tiring to stand only when he knew that he was truly alone in the room.  During the kiss his legs had become like jelly and couldn’t hold his weight when the other stepped away.  The kiss had been so intense, so passionate that Speed couldn’t think of any other time that he had been kissed like that.  The rational side of Speed’s brain told him that what had happened had been something that he had not wanted, but that little voice in the back of his head spoke up saying otherwise.  It whispered to how much he had enjoyed those dark eyes upon him and the feel of rough lips against his own.  Speed growled and hit the locker he was leaning against out of anger and confusion.

Once he regained control of himself again he moved from the locker and picked up his duffle bag.  He left the locker room behind him, but not the memories.


End file.
